


Lab Partners

by deacontent



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: 1960s, Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, High School, I love High School AUs so much, In later chapters - Freeform, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, deaky is a nerd, i tried my best... again, roger is lowkey a nerd too, they are too cute pls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2019-09-29 13:38:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17204366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deacontent/pseuds/deacontent
Summary: Roger is supposed to be the classic bad boy archetype, breaking hearts left and right, but all that changes when he's paired up with straight-A student John Deacon for the year as his lab partner for chemistry. Roger is far softer than he expresses himself to be.





	1. Chapter 1

Roger would have been lying if he said he didn't find the quiet little fellow he was lab partners with alluring, particularly when he'd thoughtlessly mess with that ridiculous permed hair of his, or when he'd tap his pencil against his lips in thought. A perfect student, he liked to call him, though never to his face. His studious nature was more than endearing. Something about it, Roger adored more than he could express, as silly as it sounded. 

Regardless of his affections, Roger was notorious for having his arm around a new dame each week, and he couldn't even think about being anything more than friends with the boy, especially in this day and age.

At least that's what he told himself.

Every day, John would pull something that would spike Roger's heart rate higher and higher, be it the way he would shake his hair after he took off his goggles or the way he ever so delicately tied Roger's apron for him, his fingers brushing against the small of his back in a way Roger could only describe as deliberate. That's what he wanted it to be, at least. Maybe he was reading too much into it. One time, John had guided Roger's hands with his own when he was trying—and failing—to figure out how to work a piece of lab equipment, and his heart leapt into his throat. John was the most gentle person he had come across, and it showed in every way. 

Roger's strong suit was in biology, not chemistry, yet John's gentle and calm explanations of nuclear decay particles and electron power levels and whatever other nonsense they were learning seemed to be more than enough to keep him from falling behind. John was the best teacher he could have ever asked for. Not once would he get impatient, no matter how dense Roger would be. And he was grateful. More so than John truly knew. Part of that was because there was no way Roger would be able to adequately explain all of his gratitude; there was just far too much of it. The other part of it was because Roger was too scared to express it, worried it would make him seem more vulnerable than he already did around John.

What Roger didn't like, however, was the fact that John never seemed awkward around him. Every movement he made was fluid and planned. Whenever Roger was in his presence, it was like his suave personality had completely turned on his head. _John_ was the collected one, and _he_... Well, _he_ was far less dexterous. Roger had nearly ignited his sleeve on an open fire when they were testing the color of burning metal salts all because John had chuckled at one of his jokes. 

Every day when he'd go to fourth period, and in fourth period only, he'd become a complete and utter mess. He hoped his behavior was only amplified to himself, and that John didn't notice it as much. Roger told himself he hated it, but he really didn't. In fact, there was no other class he looked forward to attending than chemistry, though he'd deny that for an eternity.

If any of his friends saw how uncharacteristically soft he was around John, he'd surely never hear the end of it.

“Hmm,” John hummed thoughtfully, tapping the eraser end of his pencil beside the test tube rack the pair was observing. They were doing a lab on God knows what. All Roger knew was that they put barium nitrate and sulfuric acid into a test tube and something happened.

“Would you say the precipitate is insoluble, or slightly soluble?”

Roger blanked, looking up at a thoughtful John. Truthfully, he hardly comprehended half of the words that had came out of his mouth. He bit his lip.

“What's… What's the precipitate?” He asked, the word feeling awkward and wrong in his mouth. His voice hardly hovered above the sound of the chatter around them. John smiled, and Roger's ears started to burn.

“The solid that formed in the chemical reaction,” he explained patiently, pointing to the white residue at the bottom of the test tube. “Right there, see?”

“Right.” He looked back to the tube, feeling rather stupid. But it was clear John didn't think he was stupid at all, which comforted him slightly. Roger's other friends wouldn't be nearly as understanding. “Uh… It looks insoluble. I think.”

John accepted that answer with more trust in it than Roger had, scribbling down the information in the little table on his paper. The action made Roger's heart feel full, though he didn't quite know why. John believed in Roger more than Roger believed in himself. He didn't know what he did to deserve such support, but he wasn't in any way going to argue with it. He picked up his pencil and followed his partner's actions, albeit a bit robotically. 

“Looks like we've gotten all the data we need to record,” John declared, moving his goggles to rest them at the top of his head. It caused his fluffy hair to dip a bit under the weight.

Roger straightened up, taking off his irritating lab goggles and setting them aside. He took a moment to look at John—who was beginning to clean up their station—and decided that he much preferred looking at him when his vision wasn't obstructed. But this was a time for cleaning, not ogling. Right. He turned to the counter and grabbed the first thing in sight, which just so happened to be the used test tube. He poured its contents down the drain of the sink, which would have been just fine if he didn't somehow get it all over his free hand as he emptied it. How was that even _remotely_ possible? John gasped softly and reached for the—now empty—test tube, setting it aside.

“Barium nitrate is a skin irritant, Roger,” he informed like a concerned mother, putting his partner's contaminated hand under the tap and pumping a handful of soap onto it. “You really need to be more careful.”

“You think _I_ knew that?” Roger asked incredulously, laughing a bit at his own stupidity. John was busy scrubbing at his hands, as if Roger was unable to do that himself. He wasn't complaining. If he were to do it himself, anyway, he would have somehow made things worse. He didn't need that, especially in front of John.

John turned off the sink and met Roger's eyes. It took a moment, but before either of them knew, they were both nearly doubling over in laughter. Suddenly, Roger felt so much ease around someone he constantly felt jumpy around.

“You are absolutely _ridiculous_ ,” the brunette said, recovering from his laughter. “You act like you've never seen a lab safety PSA in your _life._ ”

All Roger could do was smile. He just made _John Richard Deacon_ , perhaps the smartest boy in his grade, laugh like a madman. How could he not smile?

“We should probably start getting ready,” John said after a brief amount of companionable silence, eyeing the clock. “Give me your apron, I'll put it away for you.”

Roger did as told and watched his partner scuttle off with a happy sigh, turning to start putting his stuff away. It wasn't long before John was back, hurriedly placing his books into his sickeningly neat backpack. Roger hesitated as he stuffed his chemistry textbook beside his torn history folder.

“Hey... John?”

“Yeah?” He responded, looking up to meet the blond's eyes.

“Do you—Do you think we can meet after school? In the library?” Roger asked, more casually than he expected. “I need help with the homework.”

John raised his eyebrows teasingly. “Don't you have a girlfriend to be running off with? Or three?”

 _I'd rather be with you,_ Roger wanted to say. He didn't.

“They've all booked different days,” Roger joked, a bit of a smile forming on his lips. “Please?”

John pretended to ponder before nodding with a smile. Truthfully, he didn't need to think about it. He was going to accept anyway. Roger knew that. “You better not keep me waiting.”

The bell rang. “I wouldn't dream of it.”


	2. Chapter 2

Roger was impatient as ever as he went through the rest of the day, picking up John's characteristic pencil-tapping tick as he pushed through his particularly monotonous classes (much to his classmates’ annoyance). Even his friends had noticed something was off, but Roger didn't budge when pestered about it. So he went about his day, more anxious than ever to do his _homework_. It was a strange, unprecedented feeling, but Roger welcomed it with open arms.

When the bell rang at the end of the last period of the day, Roger navigated the crowded hallways as briskly as he could, beelining in the direction of the library. He was so caught up in his thoughts and his excitement that he nearly didn't feel the tug at his jacket sleeve, but when the feeling registered, he stopped abruptly in his tracks. Luckily, it didn't cause much disruption to the traffic flowing around them.

“You're in a hurry.” 

Roger looked in the direction of the voice. It was John, smiling quizzically at him. Roger smiled back and kept walking, this time at a much slower pace for John's sake.

“Didn't want to keep you waiting,” he justified, a bit of a flirtatious tenor in his voice. He didn't notice it came out that way until the words had already left his lips, but John didn't seem to mind. In fact, he gave Roger a look that said _”two can play at that game.”_ It caused his heart to nearly jump out of his chest.

“Mr. Bad Boy cares that much?” The brunette teased, his eyebrows raising curiously. Roger scoffed.

“Are you insinuating something?”

“Perhaps.” 

They reached the entrance of the library. Roger had hardly noticed until John politely opened the door for him. He bowed his head as a “thank you” and stepped inside the familiar environment. Before he was close enough to comfortably talk to John, he would come to the library and attempt to teach himself the topics he didn't understand. It wasn't nearly as effective.

They found an open table in a cozy little corner near the back of the the library, semi-hidden behind stacks of bookshelves. John pulled out his homework and Roger followed suit. He noticed John's homework was already partially finished, despite it being assigned that day.

 _Dork,_ he thought.

“So,” John started, smoothing out his shirt, “What are you having trouble with?”

Roger scanned the front of the paper, flipped it over, then scanned the back. He sighed defeatedly. “All of it.”

“That's alright,” he said soothingly, which calmed Roger's flaring frustration. John scooted closer to him and used his pencil to point at the first question. Roger's skin buzzed when John's knee settled against his.

“Explain how we can use the color of the light to determine the identity of an unknown element,” John recited from the paper. Roger sighed at how natural the words seemed to flow from his lips. 

“Remember when we set those elements on fire? And you nearly burnt your sleeve off?”

Roger met his eyes, and felt a warmth tug up at the corners of his lips. John was so good at keeping the mood light. He would be a lovely teacher, Roger always thought. Every explanation he made was wrapped with care, being as gentle as he could in order to keep Roger from giving up. And it worked. Always.

“Yes, I remember.”

“Lovely.” John mirrored Roger's small smile and tilted his head. His hair bounced with the motion. “They all burned different colors, remember? Do you know why?”

Roger recalled the memory. He had remembered it so well only because John had absolutely brightened up merely over the color of burning copper chloride. He thought it was the coolest thing in the world. Roger's chest swelled happily at the thought, like it did when he was back in the classroom watching it happen for the first time. The endearing memory settled at the front of his mind and he felt his skin tingle with warmth.

“Wasn't it because they all were at different energy levels? The light was at different wavelengths, because they were all emitting different amounts of energy…” Roger furrowed his eyebrows, looking from his partner to his paper, then back again.

“That’s right!” He confirmed encouragingly with a nod. It made Roger feel like the smartest person in the world. The answer seemed so simple. How did he not know that before? He turned to his paper and chuckled a bit, scribbling the answer down in his wonky handwriting that John always teased him for.

“I'm sorry, I'm an idiot,” Roger said light-heartedly. John shook his head.

“You're far from an idiot, Roger. Trust me.”

And Roger did. How could he not, when John was the most genuine person he had ever met?

“So, this next one…” John casually extended his arm and settled it on the back of Roger's chair, which caused little electric jolts to run all the way to his fingertips. 

“I had a little trouble with this one, too. The wording is a bit odd, but it's asking you to find the pattern of the colors in each family of elements, like how we burned magnesium chloride and strontium chloride, and they were both…”

Roger listened intently as John softly explained everything, his intelligent words leaving a bit of a tingle on his ears. Something about the way John spoke with such ease and intellect made butterflies dance in Roger's stomach and crawl up to his chest. Despite the ever present distractions, he understood what his partner was explaining. They moved onto the next question, and he understood that one as well, scribbling in his answers with progressively deteriorating handwriting. They moved onto the next question, and he understood, even though his joints started to feel weaker. Eventually they had gone through the entire handout and Roger found he knew a lot more than he previously thought, although his mind felt rather foggy and his skin felt warm. John didn't say it outright, but he was clearly proud.

“Well, you've got it,” John said with a smile, starting to put his stuff away. “My work is done here.”

Roger felt vaguely disappointed, but a sudden sense of boldness overshadowed that.

“Before you leave…”

John raised an eyebrow inquisitively. Roger didn't falter.

“Are you busy tomorrow by any chance?”

John smiled curiously, but politely. “What do you need help with on a Saturday?”

Roger shook his head. “It's not that. They're playing _Psycho_ at the cinema. I need someone to go with.”

He thought for a moment, like he was settling on something to say, but his expression didn't change. He was as casual as always.

“That's an R rated film, you know. We're not going to be let in.”

Roger smiled. “I have my ways.”

“Oh?” John said through a chuckle, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “I’m not planning on getting arrested, I hope you're aware.”

“We won't be.” Roger cocked his head teasingly. “Are you afraid of a little fun?”

John rolled his eyes with a smile, taking a few steps backward. “Bye, Roger.”

“I’ll see you at seven-thirty tomorrow, then? At the cinema just down the street?”

John chewed on his lip to stop himself from smiling any bigger than he already had. “I'll think about it.”

Roger knew he had already made his decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope this was cute, im not sure how i feel about this chapter but prepare for the next one to be EXTRA FLUFFY lmao


	3. Chapter 3

Roger checked his watch for the twelfth time after seven-thirty had passed, shuddering as the cold autumn air went right through him. It was currently seven-thirty-six, and he worried that he completely misconstrued how John actually felt. Maybe he really wasn't coming, and he hadn't planned on coming at all. Maybe he _did_ think about it, and he realized it wasn't worth his time. Roger's fingers were numb and stiff from the cold, and he could hardly feel his cheeks as the wind nipped at his skin. 

After what seemed like a significant amount of time had passed, he looked at his wrist again. Seven-thirty-seven. He felt a dull pain in his chest. John was probably not going to come, and if he waited any longer, he'd freeze to death. With a disappointed sigh he turned to open the door to the cinema, but stopped when he heard a sound vaguely similar to his name. He turned his head.

“Roger!”

Of course. 

Hurriedly approaching him was a slightly disheveled looking John, his puffy hair looking even more ruffled than usual (most likely from the wind). Roger felt a warmth flood through his body despite the freezing cold weather, mixing together with the slight sense of guilt he felt for doubting his friend. He smiled a little.

“Glad you could join me,” he commented teasingly as the brunette approached him. The closer he got, the colder he looked, and it made Roger feel a pang of guilt in his chest. John's nose and cheeks were tinted red and he was wearing a thin long sleeved shirt and jeans, which likely did not give him much warmth. Despite his circumstances, he was still wearing a warm—though apologetic—smile, and Roger couldn't help but notice how lovely he looked.

“I'm sorry,” John apologized breathily, “I underestimated how long the walk here was.”

He walked there? Roger frowned at that, the guilty feeling that tangled in his ribs growing even stronger.

“That's alright,” he reassured, which seemed to make John relax. “You're shaking like a leaf, you know. We should get inside.”

John nodded and followed Roger inside the cinema. The warmth of the lobby caused Roger's fingers to tingle, and the prominent smell of warm popcorn brought some feeling back into his nose again. John sighed in relief. Some color was coming back to his face, which made Roger feel a lot better about the situation.

“I—uh, bought you your ticket, by the way,” Roger said after a few moments of warming up, fishing in his pocket and pulling out one of the ticket stubs. John gave him a thankful, surprised smile, and Roger felt his skin start to tingle even more.

“You didn't have to do that,” he said gratefully, taking the ticket that Roger handed to him. 

“You've done so much for me, so…” Roger trailed off. He sounded like a blushing school girl. He never wanted to hit himself so badly in his life.

“I—I mean, it's payback, you know? For helping me and all.”

John chuckled at that, a fond look in his eyes along with something else that Roger couldn't quite place. Whatever it was, it didn't do much to help his face from burning.

“I hope you know that helping you with your homework is not a _burden,_ though I appreciate this very much.”

Roger sighed inwardly. John made speaking look so easy.

“Mm…” John hummed in confusion, scanning over the ticket in his hands. “101 Dalmatians?”

“Oh—” Roger chuckled a bit—a little more nervously than he anticipated—and John looked up at him with a confused smile. “They weren't going to sell me tickets to Psycho, remember?” 

“Oh,” John nodded in realization, his curious smile growing into an amused—and slightly mischievous—one. He giggled. “I see.”

Roger relaxed from his prior embarrassment, his skin starting to cool down. John was very good at making him feel better, he noticed, even if it was unintentional.

“We… should probably start heading in,” Roger said, mentally cursing himself for being so awkward, “Unless you want me to buy you some popcorn?”

John smiled politely and shook his head. “I'm not very hungry at the moment, but thank you.”

Roger tried to ignore the fact that John's smile absolutely melted his heart.

“You lead the way. I've never snuck into a movie before,” the brunette admitted. 

Of course he hadn't. John was the type to refrain from jaywalking even if the street was completely empty. It was endearing, really. Roger smiled and motioned for the other to follow him. 

“Follow me, then. And act casual.”

Like _Roger_ had to tell _him_ to act casual. He rolled his eyes at himself.

They approached the ticket collector who luckily wasn't very attentive to begin with, making it easy for the pair to sneak in through a different theater door than they were supposed to. They sat near the back of the theater so no staff members could see them and run the risk of getting them kicked out.

“That was awfully easy,” John commented, appearing rather excited about sneaking into a movie for the first time. Roger smiled.

“I told you you had nothing to worry about!”

Luckily, they had got there just in time, as the lights were dimming and the previews were coming to a close. Roger noticed how pretty John looked under the light of the screen and his mouth dried. He secretly wished he had bought a soda.

John had his arms crossed over himself, which Roger assumed was because of the vent that was conveniently placed right above them. He frowned.

“Are you still cold?” Roger leaned over and whispered, concerned. John hesitated before nodding.

“I didn't think it was going to be so cold out,” he admitted sheepishly, the proximity leaving a gentle tingle on Roger's cheek. Roger shrugged off his leather jacket and held it out.

“Wear this. I'm not cold, anyway.”

John took the jacket, chuckling a little. “Thank you, though I'm not sure I can pull this off as well as you can.”

Roger was sure John could pull anything off, and he would have said so if his heart wasn't beating so loudly in his ears, and if his stomach wasn't swarming with butterflies that never seemed to go away. He felt ridiculous for being so affected by something as simple as sitting next to John, but he couldn't help it. It was scary. John looked so calm, never missing a beat or stumbling over his words, and it just made everything so much harder.

Roger wasn't able to focus on the movie as much as he would have liked, especially when John would lean in every ten minutes or so, saying something like _”Did you know, they used Hershey's chocolate syrup for the blood in this scene?”_ He seemed to be enjoying himself quite a bit, and Roger wondered if it was because he wasn't often invited to little excursions like this. The thought pulled at his heart.

It also didn't help that they had to share an arm rest, so their hands were constantly brushing against each other, the feeling leaving sparks on Roger's skin. Part of his mind was telling him to _”hold his damn hand you fucking idiot,”_ while the other part of his mind brought up every possible consequence of doing so. 

However, he didn't need to make a decision. When he was in the middle of his internal conflict, and when he least expected it, John ever so casually reached over and curled his hand around Roger's. He nearly jumped. At least he would have had the excuse that they were watching a scary movie. Roger, after he'd recovered from the little fright, took a quick glance at John and _the bastard was acting like nothing happened!_ There was not one hint of fear on the boy's face, when Roger remained completely readable. It was frustrating, but Roger softened and, with slightly shaking fingers, squeezed John's hand. He saw John smile in the corner of his eye.

\-------

“I really liked the soundtrack,” was the first thing John said as the pair exited the theater. Roger could still feel John's hand in his, even though they weren't holding hands anymore (God knows what would have happened to them if they _were_ ). Roger wiggled his fingers at the odd sensation.

“Me too,” Roger agreed, despite the fact that he had been far too preoccupied to notice the music while they were watching the movie.

They found their way outside the theater and back in the cold fall air. John looked much warmer with Roger's leather jacket on, and it was clear how much he liked wearing it. Though Roger now felt the chill of the wind passing through his sweatshirt, he had no intention of asking for the jacket back. John looked at him curiously, but happily, like he wasn't sure if they were going to depart or if they were going to go on another adventure. Last minute, Roger decided on the latter.

“May I take you somewhere, Deaky?”

John looked surprised at the use of a nickname, but the sound of it settled and he quickly warmed up to it. He raised an eyebrow at Roger, though his lips curled up curiously. “Where could we possibly go this late at night, Rog?”

“Plenty of places,” he replied vaguely, tugging at his friend's wrist. “Come on, it'll be fun.”

John caved in with a nod and a growing smile, to which Roger excitedly pulled him towards their destination. They giggled as they passed by various shops and restaurants that had closed down for the night, and the further they traveled, the darker it became. But John never stopped smiling.

“Is this where you're taking me?” John asked confusedly (but happily!) as their speed slowed, scanning their surroundings. They had found their way to a large park, though it was hard to tell under the dim lights that lit the paths. Roger nodded with a smile.

“Yep!” He confirmed as he walked toward a bench that sat comfortably near a little pond. “I used to come here all the time and feed the ducks.”

John chuckled fondly. “Feed the ducks?”

Roger nodded with a nostalgic smile and sat down, looking out at the still water. John sat right beside him, a sweet smile pulling at his lips as well. Roger's chest bubbled with anxiety. He hoped the sound of crickets was louder than the sound of his heartbeat.

“Roger…”

Roger looked over to John, who was resting his arm against the bench. He looked divine under the dim lamplight, his eyelashes casting a soft shadow on his cheeks. Roger's legs felt unusable at this point; if he were standing, they'd surely collapse under his weight.

“Why are you doing all this for me?” John's voice was gentle, but curious. Roger swallowed.

“Bec—”

“And _don't_ say it's to pay me back for helping you with chemistry,” he interrupted dotingly through a laugh, his eyes curling into the little crescent moons that Roger adored so much. 

Roger's cheeks stung in the cold and the crickets seemed like they were getting even louder in his ears, but all he could focus on was how absolutely fucking terrified he felt. John was the sweetest person he ever had the pleasure of meeting, but other people weren't as kind. And now that he had to actually say it out loud and admit it not only to John, but also to himself, made him dizzy with fear. There was no telling how his peers or his parents or his friends would react if they found out about how he felt, and Roger hadn't realized the gravity of that fact until that very moment. And it was _terrifying_. They were completely alone, but that didn't stop the words from catching in his throat.

“It's because I…”

Roger felt his eyes sting with threatening tears, though he wasn't sure if they were caused by the wind or his overwhelming fear. John had looked so genuinely happy just a few minutes ago, but now he looked more concerned than Roger had ever seen him. He hated that it was his fault.

“Oh, Roger, what's wrong?” John asked gently, his voice fogging up the chill air. 

Roger felt a warm tear spill over the side of his cheek, and it made him feel even worse because John was the _last_ person he ever wanted to cry in front of. But here he was, shaking like a leaf because he was in love with someone he wasn't supposed to be in love with.

He felt himself get pulled into John's arms and he felt so much safer, though his heart still ached and his entire body was trembling. But he was safe, and he was warm, and he knew that no matter what he told John, he'd be okay. Everything would be okay. They would figure it out. 

“John—” Roger leaned out of the embrace so he could look at him. He looked so terribly worried and it made guilt tangle in Roger's ribs again, but this time it was far more painful. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and braced himself for the worst.

“It's because I… I really like you.”

The confession hung in the air and Roger wished he had expressed it better, but it was the best he could do. Hearing it out loud made him feel so relieved yet so scared at the same time.

“Because you like me?” John repeated, his shoulders relaxing as he did. He laughed softly in relief, and for some reason, it made Roger laugh too, even though there were tear stains on his cheeks.

“That's it? Rog, you dork, I thought you were going to tell me you were dying!” John laughed through his words, his eyes forming those little crescent moons again. Roger laughed along as he wiped his tears from his cheeks, and all his fear melted away. He felt so silly for crying like he did, especially since now they were laughing so hard they could hardly breathe.

“I like you too, Roger,” John admitted after their laughter had subsided, leaving them feeling dizzy and warm. “I like you a lot.”

Roger smiled, his skin buzzing with happiness and relief. He felt like he could do anything. “Do you like me enough to kiss me?”

John chuckled again and rolled his eyes. “What a silly question. Of course I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry that this chapter is extra long, but i hope you all liked it regardless!


	4. Chapter 4

“John—”

“C'mon, just one more?” John giggled, his fingers loosely curled around the lapels of Roger's jacket and his eyes full of adoration. Roger's ears burned as their noses brushed against each other, the proximity leaving a buzzing feeling underneath his skin.

“Pleaaase?”

How could he possibly say no to that? Roger sighed lightly and leaned in, leaving a soft, lingering kiss on his partner's lips. John hummed in satisfaction.

“You’d better head to class,” Roger advised breathlessly, leaning his back against the wall for support before his knees could give out on him, “Before you get caught.”

John chuckled. He didn't increase the space between them even the slightest bit. Instead, he stayed put, his chest nearly flush against Roger's. 

“That's funny coming from _you,_ Rog.” He raised an eyebrow. “Aren't you supposed to be the rulebreaker?”

Roger's skin grew even warmer and he anxiously looked left, then right, then left again, as if he were crossing the street. Except this was riskier than crossing the street. If someone were to turn the corner they were hiding behind and see them like this, God knows what would happen to them. The thought made Roger's lungs burn.

However, the other part of him wanted to wrap his arms around John's waist and never let go. The way John was looking at him, with their faces so close that his breath was dancing on Roger's face, made his heart ache so wonderfully. If they were under different circumstances, Roger would have surely kissed John silly. But they weren't, and the threat of being caught loomed over his head like a dark cloud over a picnic.

“Deaky…” Roger cupped John's cheek, tracing a line from one end of his collarbone to the other with his thumb. John leaned into the touch.

“I'll see you in chemistry, okay?”

John sighed gently, but he complied, as he knew how panicked Roger could get. He gave Roger a peck on the cheek and took a couple small steps backwards.

“Goodbye, Rog,” John said with a small smile, turning to leave. Before he did, he stopped in his tracks and, with brief hesitation, looked back to Roger, his loving smile turning more flirtatious than ever.

“I'm not done with you yet,” he added playfully with the raise of an eyebrow, and then he was gone. Roger leaned his head back against the wall, waiting for his heart rate to slow.

\-------

“What's got you happier than a pig in shit?” Brian asked in annoyance, peering up from his classwork as Roger hummed buoyantly to himself. Freddie smirked as he leaned back in his seat.

“He must've had fun with Debbie this morning,” he commented teasingly, raising his eyebrows at Roger. Roger shook his head, a sheepish smile pulling at his lips as he turned back to his work.

“I broke up with her a few days ago.”

Brian folded his arms over his chest. “You _what?_ ”

“I'm not sure why you're so surprised, darling. You act like this doesn't happen every week,” Freddie said plainly, picking at his nails. 

Brian rolled his eyes. “Who'd you replace her with, then?”

Roger kept his eyes on his work, scribbling in an answer in his characteristically messy handwriting. “No one. I want to stay single for a while.”

Freddie gasped, almost like he was offended. “Who are you and what have you done with our Roger?”

“He's lying,” Brian claimed audaciously. “He just doesn't want to tell us who the new girl is.”

Roger felt his lips curl upwards in bittersweet amusement. He loved their camaraderie, but he also wished he could tell them about John without fearing the consequences. For now, he could settle for the feeling of teasing nudges under the table and the chatter of Freddie and Brian debating on who the next “lucky girl” was.

\-------

When the coast was finally clear after the sea of students left at the bell, Roger and John promptly retreated to their little corner again, as it was the closest thing they had to a safe haven. It wasn't long until John was showering Roger with loving kisses that made him feel like a puddle. The affection made Roger's lungs burn delightfully, though it made it a bit difficult for him to breathe.

“I told you I wasn't done with you,” John said in-between gentle kisses, his words delicately hitting Roger's face. It made Roger want to laugh in adoration at the seemingly seductive words his boyfriend used despite the fact that he didn't mean it seductively in the slightest. John was simply too innocent, too sweet. The thought made Roger smile into what had to have been their twentieth kiss of the afternoon. John pulled away, also smiling, but confused.

“What are you smiling about?”

Roger's smile brightened and he wrapped his arms around John's waist, pulling him closer. He felt his stomach curl with happiness as he studied each detail of John's features, like the little crinkles at the corners of his eyes, or the lines in his cheeks that formed with his smile, or the few freckles decorating his pale skin, or the way his eyebrows just slightly pulled together, or the adorable little gap between his front teeth. Roger's heart ached.

“You, Deaky.” He placed a sweet kiss on John's forehead, just above his left eyebrow. “You’re just so… Lovely. Everything about you.”

A few stubborn words remained at the front of his mind, words that were far too impatient to wait to be said. But Roger ignored his urges for reasons he didn't quite know. Every part of his brain was lighting up, telling him to _”Say it! Say it!”_ but something about it seemed so… Off limits. He couldn't tell John that he loved him, he needed to be _sure,_ even though every bone in his body knew he was. His chest ached with panic, but then John's smile grew larger and happier and everything was okay again.

“I adore you, Rog,” John said dotingly, gently placing his hands on either side of Roger's face and pulling him into yet another kiss. Roger's head started to feel fuzzy in the best possible way. He never felt this way when he kissed a girl; none of his ex girlfriends had ever evoked such a sense of adoration in him. It wasn't until he fell in love with John that he found out why.

“ _Oh!_ ” A voice exclaimed in surprise (that couldn't have been either Roger's or John's, as both of their mouths were quite preoccupied at the moment), as if someone had just jumped out and startled him. Roger tensed at the sound and instinctively pushed John away, a little more harshly than he intended. In front of them was _Freddie-fucking-Mercury,_ who stumbled upon them at the least opportune moment imaginable. It was like the world had stopped spinning. Roger felt his blood run cold.

“H-Hey, Freddie,” Roger stuttered out, the words forming by themselves. His eyes darted from Freddie—who was frozen in place—to John—who looked absolutely terrified—and back to Freddie again. Roger wished he could send a distress signal, an SOS, _something_ that would get him out of this situation, but no matter how much he prayed, no deus ex machina appeared. As he scanned Freddie's face, he noticed his expression of shock turned into confusion, and then his expression of confusion turned into realization. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a knowing smile. A very _Freddie-like_ smile. Roger felt himself relax just slightly upon seeing that he wasn't disgusted.

“So _this_ is the lucky girl, eh?” Freddie asked playfully, taking a few steps towards the pair. John's expression of fear melted into confusion.

“No wonder you've gone through so many girlfriends, darling.”

Roger sighed partially in irritation and partially in relief. “Freddie, can you please—”

“What?” Freddie placed a hand on his chest, feigning offense. “You want me to leave already, when I haven't even met your friend yet? That's simply inhospitable, you know.”

John formed a lopsided, amused smile and politely held his hand out for Freddie to shake. Count on John to always be the most polite person on the planet. 

“My name is John Deacon, nice to meet you.”

“Oh, I like him,” Freddie said with a growing smile, shaking John's hand. “My name's Freddie Mercury, dear. I'm Roger's friend.”

“Unfortunately,” Roger said through a sigh, his face still burning with embarrassment and his chest full of annoyance.

“Well, I should leave you two to your own devices.” Freddie started backing away. That shit-eating grin never left his face. “It was nice meeting you, John.”

“You as well, Freddie!”

“Don't you dare tell anyone about this,” Roger warned, though he wasn't very threatening.

“Wouldn't dream of it, dear! Now you two have fun! Not too much, though!”

As soon as he came, he was gone. Roger looked to John and, in seconds, they were thrown into another one of their shared laughing fits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> freddie is such a mOM anyways i hope you liked this soft ass chapter LOL


	5. Chapter 5

Roger never in his life thought he'd feel as much pride for someone as he did for his boyfriend, but he was full of surprises (as John would always tell him). John was just so unbelievably intelligent that it made Roger's heart ache. He could analyze Shakespeare with hardly any effort, when Roger hardly understood the plot of _Macbeth._ He had a good seventy-five percent of the periodic table memorized in order, when Roger had just recently learned that samarium was an element. And he was insanely good at memorizing history, when Roger hardly understood who Justinian the Great was.

Despite the fact that John was a borderline genius (well, in Roger's eyes, but he was biased), he was also likely the most humble person on the planet.

 _”I wish I were as smart as you,”_ Roger would say through a sad laugh, watching as John flew through his history homework.

 _”But you are, Rog. Just in different ways,”_ John would tell him gently, looking up from his work. _”I've never met anyone who was as skilled in biology as you, or someone who could teach themselves algebra as if it were nothing. I can't do either of those things, you know. You're smart, Rog. You just don't know it yet.”_

No matter how dumb Roger thought he was, John always made him feel like he was a genius. John never doubted him. He never put himself above others, and never put others down, either. He was just such a lovely person, Roger would always tell him, but John would deny that as well. Roger felt so lucky that he was his. He wished he could show him off to the whole world and say _”Look at how smart and amazing my boyfriend is!”_ But that was the thing. He couldn't do that. The only person who knew was Freddie, and even that was unplanned. Roger hated the fact that their relationship essentially only existed to them. The thought made him sigh.

“Everythin’ alright?” John asked gently, looking away from a test tube he was examining. Roger met his eyes and smiled a little, though it took a bit more energy than it normally would.

“Yes, Deaky. I'm fine.”

Roger could see a little skepticism behind the brunette's goggles, but John didn't act on his suspicions. Instead, he looked back to the test tube, furrowing his eyebrows in thought.

“There was no reaction, but there was supposed to be one…”

Roger furrowed his eyebrows as well, leaning forward and studying the solution. John was right. It didn't change color, or fizz, or form a precipitate (a word he only recently learned courtesy of John). The liquid was clear and still.

“Maybe we missed something. Let's try again.”

Roger reached for the test tube with intentions of pouring it out, but upon touching it, he noticed the glass was perceptibly warm. After brief deliberation, he smiled a bit and looked at John.

“The reaction was exothermic.”

Realization dawned on John like he was hit by a truck, and he smiled in disbelief at himself.

“How didn't I think of that? Rog—you’re a genius. That's why I adore you,” John said as he reached up and pinched his boyfriend's cheek, his words dripping with pride and affection. Roger's ears burned like he was having his own exothermic reaction. It was the same pleasant little nervous feeling that John always seemed to be able to trigger, despite their status (to themselves) as a couple.

\-----

Roger and Brian shared their last period of the day together, and at the bell, they would always walk beside one another (the only exception being the time Roger was in a rush to meet John at the library). This was not unlike any other day, as they were chatting as they traversed through the sea of teenagers. Really, Brian was the only one talking, rambling on about what he had learned in astronomy while Roger listened. Well… Pretended to listen. He was far too preoccupied with his thoughts that he couldn't quite focus on the vastness of the universe.

Roger was sick of keeping his relationship a secret between only John and himself. The only friend of his that knew was Freddie, and since Freddie, Roger, and Brian were a unit, it wasn't like John could really become part of the group. Unless Roger told Brian about their relationship. The thought arose a sharp nervous pain in his stomach. As much as Roger didn't want to do it, it had to be done.

“Brian,” Roger said abruptly in the middle of Brian's detailed explanation of black holes, though it felt as if he said it subconsciously. Brian turned to look at him with his eyebrows furrowed quizzically, and he appeared a little disappointed that he was interrupted when he was just about to get to the good part.

“Yes?”

“I… Really need to tell you something.” The words came out far more rushed than he intended, and it left Roger feeling dizzy. Unfortunately, the chatter in the hallways didn't mask the nerve in his voice very well, and Brian suddenly grew concerned. He frowned, craning his long neck so he could look at Roger, but also not run the risk of bumping into someone in the extremely crowded hall.

“Is everything alright?”

Maybe this wasn't the best time to tell Brian, Roger finally noticed. But Roger couldn't back out now; Brian was far too curious and worried to let it go anytime soon. Roger gestured for Brian to follow him, leading him to a fairly secluded area outside. When they arrived, Brian looked at him expectantly. Roger felt his stomach lurch.

“... You know when I said I wanted to be single for a while?”

Brian nodded slowly, as if he were thoroughly digesting every syllable Roger said.

“I was lying.”

Brian scoffed, the concern on his face being replaced by a bit of amusement. “I figured. Is that what you wanted to confess to me?”

Roger bit his lip, hesitated, then shook his head. “No… it's not. Brian…” He took in a distressed breath. Brian was his best friend; he cared too much about Roger to be angry at him for something like this. It would be fine.

“Please don't get mad at me…”

Brian, again, grew very confused, and slightly anxious. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Roger nodded and closed his eyes tightly, as if that would protect him from any bad reaction Brian could possibly have, or as if when he opened his eyes, he'd be somewhere else. But he knew that wasn't the case. Taking in a deep breath, he braced himself.

“I'm dating… A boy.”

Brian was silent for a few moments, and that prompted Roger to peek out of his tightly shut eyes to see if Brian was preparing to punch him. But, upon inspection, he wasn't. Roger opened his other eye. Brian looked… Sad, almost. Roger could hardly begin to guess why, but he supposed that reaction was better than anger, so he accepted it.

“And you're just telling me now, Rog?”

Roger wanted to shrink in on himself in guilt, but all he could do at that moment was nod. Brian frowned.

“Did you think I was going to hate you, Roger? For being gay?” He asked gently.

Roger didn't know how to answer that. No matter what he said, it wouldn't make Brian feel any better.

“No… I mean, I did, but—… I don't know.”

Brian sighed softly. Despite Roger's incoherent mess of a response, he understood perfectly, which helped Roger relax. He wasn't good at speaking properly under pressure, anyway.

“I may be a prick sometimes, but I'm not _that_ much of a prick,” Brian reassured, which made the corners of Roger's lips curl up a bit. Brian returned the smile warmly and patted his friend's shoulder.

“You should introduce him to me some time, I'd love to meet him. Though, I must say, he has a terrible taste in men.”

Roger punched him in the arm. Brian chuckled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after a very long hiatus, im back with this, which i know isn't as good as past chapters but it is necessary to build the ~plot~ LOL. i apologize for taking so long but i was really overwhelmed with school and extracurriculars that i had to sacrifice some things to stay sane. but im back! ill hopefully be posting more within a few weeks. i would post sooner but im going out of town. ive really missed you all! thank you all for your patience <3


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